Of Dark Beasts and Red Dragons
by Oh-bro-no
Summary: Sometimes they loved each other so much, it was stupid. Idiots, the both of them. -Hakyona Oneshots-
1. Laconic

Laconic [luh-kon-ik] :using few words; expressing much in few words; concise

 _He was always so laconic in his replies, but somehow she didn't mind; it suited him._

Despite the normal banter with her, usual arguments with Kija, and everyday beatings of Jae-ha, he had been far to quiet recently of late in her opinion.

This quiet and brief Hak was something Yona had just noticed, and it was just _eating_ her that she hadn't seen his internal drowning earlier. But then again, Hak had always been hard to read, even to an expert such as herself. After all, no one in their tiny bright group knew the beast as well as she did, none of the others were there to witness for example his childlike glee when the man- _"Boy at the time," she giggled_ \- first got his precious staff, the way his eyes glittered with joy when Mundok presented him with the ferocious blade. And even though he acted like his oddly stoic self (for a child) in front of the adults, afterwards he had talked her ear off about precision, sharpness, and weight balance of all things. But as she was thinking about that, Yona realized how long it had been since he had been that wild about something, even before the Soowon indecent.

 _Had he grown tired of her? Had he always been tired of her? Was she just a giant bother to him? Was she just-_

 _No. He was her best friend. Her rock. Her beloved companion. Her maybe soon to be something more. There wasn't anything they wouldn't do for each other._

And as she veered her eyes towards him, the red headed princess made eye contact with the sarcastic beast, feeling the soft compassion and mischievous twinkle in his gaze, promising trouble.

 _"No, not quiet," she thought, "laconic."_

And maybe it was for the better that he was so careful with his words, because she would savour each and every sound that came from him. And maybe, just maybe she would finally return his loving teases. Yes, tonight, she would be laconic with him, with only each others names briefly passing between their lips before sealing together in a long overdue passionate embrace and So with a subtle grin as impish as his normally were, she had decided that she didn't mind him being laconic around her…

 _As long as he paid her back in full._


	2. Miss

_To miss: to fail to hit or strike a target._

* * *

It seemed like a dream. A fairly comical dream despite the circumstances that she normally would've embraced in her slumber.

Alas, this was no dream.

Hidden in quiet stillness of the emerald forest, Yona had the perfect vantage point of the current battle between her faithful Raijuu and five abnormally powerful bandits. While Hak had managed to cut down the majority with his lightning speed and monster of a blade, these last five men- _"Maybe they were on Nadai," she thought_ \- had managed to trip up the warrior's normally unshakable concentration with their odd movements and unrelenting attacks and though Hak was no normal fighter, he had clearly been nicked with some poison saturated blade that would favor the enemies.

And so it was at this moment that the red-haired princess of Kouka decided that _"This time Hak, I will be the one to save you!"_ However also at this same moment Hak's stamina and muscles had seemed to have momentarilly given up and thus allowed him to be overtaken by his assailants.

"Oh _ho hoo,_ so the mighty Raijuu _can_ fall?" the captain sneered, "Look closely my men, for there may never be another beast quite so powerful as this one! Watch as I _finish his history!"_ The fellow bandits whooped and cheered like the bloodthirsty lunatics they were.

Yona, eyes wide with anger and brimming with fire, sunk down into position. The only one who ending anything was going to be her. She notched a sharpened arrow with the intent to release Hak from his captor's hold and help pick off each piece of scum that dared to touch her not-quite-her-boyfriend-yet and show them the true wrath of the young woman. Her problem? There seemed to be only one place where the arrow could lodge into her enemy, that one place being the captain's leg seen through the gap in between Hak's legs. This wouldn't have been nearly as critical a shot had the stakes not been so awkwardly high because the the shot was not near the calves but instead near the _northern regions of the Thunder beast's thigh_. Yona didn't even want to think about the conversation with Hak if she hit him in such an area instead of the bandit because even though she was competent with her bow, Yona was no master and there was _definitely_ room for mistakes.

So, with her sanity and Hak's pride on the line, the red-headed princess lifted her bow once again and let the tension in her string release, setting the arrow free, and whispered pleadingly, _"Please don't miss."_

And Hak had never been happier that he had given Yona some extra aiming tips the night before because he had known the whole time what the princess was about to hit.

* * *

"Yona-hime…"

"Yes Hak?"

"Can we agree not to tell Droopy-eyes about this?"

"Hmmm… for now I suppose, but just remember what secrets I now hold the next time you tease me servant."

"…Hai hime-sama…"


	3. Magic

_Hakyona: In which Hak is a mage and Yona craves to see his magic and an adventure._

* * *

Blinding lighting and glistening ice thrown into the sky, merged together as one glittering light. Like a mischievous fox, the mage's movements were swift and agile, yet playful and daring. His obsidian hair gracefully swished about him as he twirled his ancient staff in the twilight air. The magic's fierce glow highlighted the young adventure seeking princess's crimson locks as if her hair was the fire he manifested from his fingertips.

It was like this every time they met up, his illuminating performance, her amazement and awe. They had been doing this same routine every couple of months for the past few years after she had walked in on his concerto of magic one fateful night.

And once the princess had gotten a taste of his magic, there was no going back to the dull life of fancy garb and chattering nobles. She had demanded that he come back, back to her with his luminous show and dark humour; his wicked smile and impish grin.

And once he had gotten a glimpse of her passionate spirit, the mage was under a spell of her unintentional making. He was drawn to her blazing love of her kingdom, her cheeky retorts and playful banter.

Never being one to stay still, this odd meeting schedule they had set up was new to him. His wandering nature was forced to halt for a week every few months, preventing him from going on another wild expedition with no strings attached. But the mage could not just leave her after this final visit, _no, he would not,_ because despite her beauty and grace- _ironically enough these two traits she had called him, an unknown and potentially deadly mage, upon their meeting_ \- he had known she was caged, a defiant bird- _'More like an impertinent Phoenix or dragon,' he snorted cynically._

And so it was upon this meeting of her eighteenth birthday that the young man decided to assist the princess in her freedom (because heaven knows she would refuse to go with him if he did all the work- _she was stubborn like that his fiery dragon-)_ and with his usual naughty smirk, the mage held out his rough element infused hand to the princess's smooth elegant one, heaving her on to his flying staff and holding her close enough so that his voice would be but an intimate whisper in her ear.

 _"Time to experience some real magic Hime-sama."_

* * *

Hey guys, thanks so much for reviews and stuff- I would love it if you guys would send me some ideas! Also these prompts so far have been coming from my tumblr-which is the same name- so usually they'll come out first there.


	4. Cover

_Prompt. Hak's reaction to Yona's dance outfit in the watertribe._

* * *

It wasn't fair.

It seriously just wasn't fair.

What heinous crime did the Beast commit to deserve this punishment? Punishment in the form of toned, slender legs and the bare skin of her normally clothed stomach with the princess's chest hidden only by spare bandages.

 _Bandages that could easily be ripped o-_

 _No! Control yourself! Just… Just look away!_

But the obsidian haired man knew that wouldn't work. She was beauty and grace and _fire that consumed him._ She was ethereal, her hair as breathtaking as the sunrise, her outfit as luring as the twilight. What made it even worse was that she was excited, _oh so excited,_ to be performing again… and so was he. The wind tribe warrior craved to see her sword dance again, to see her move in ways that only he knew, because he was the one who taught her such agile fighting grace. He thrived on the skill she developed from watching him, her wild movements uncontrollable and unpredictable. She moved as if stepping on hot coals, flitting about on her toes, entrancing his living conscious. And despite knowing her since they were children, she was an exotic treasure when she slipped into her sinfully alluring dance.

He supposed it was his fault, coming up with the plan to use her as bait and all, he just hadn't anticipated it backfiring on his hormones. Hak knew that this was one of those instances where he couldn't just insult her and be on his merry way, pretending as if she didn't stop his heart. If she asked what he had thought, the bodyguard wouldn't hesitate to shower attention on her in an uncharacteristically affectionate way. All Yona had to do was twist her way towards him, fighting and dancing, burning and capturing, _swaying those not-so-hidden-anymore curves just for him…_

 _Stop. Stop it now you bear._

And then the fighting began.

She was forced to stop calling to his desires, he was forced to punch those who dared to interrupt her.

And then she full out kicked a man square in the jaw, not hesitating to fight back and defend the innocent.

And then his hormones spiked again, rising even higher than before, if that was even possible. He loved her passion, her spirit to protect those even when she needed to be protected, the stubborn girl-

 _Woman._

She needed to get out, to retreat to a safer area and check up on the poor girl with the black hair, to not be in his vision this one time because he would not be able to concentrate. Those shapely hips and his wandering eyes would definitely land him with a solid black eye and a never ending stream of teases from Jea-ha who was too intuitive for his own good.

But what Hak needed most of all right now was for her to _cover up_ , for his sake more than hers, which is why he didn't even have to think before tearing off his royal blue robe and wrapping it around her petite frame.

…

 _And damn his hormones if she didn't look so perfect wearing his clothes._


	5. Tea

_But seriously I love tea._

* * *

 _"Hime-sama…"_

Her hands were slick with sweat, her mind drenched in concentration. She would not let this task overcome her, she was Yona, the proud princess of Kouka, the girl who lead the four dragon warriors, the girl who learned-

 _"Hime-sama, gently…"_

She would not let him get in her head, for this was a task that required the utmost concentration, testing the skills she had developed on her journey. Yona pulled from her subconscious Kija's fortitude, strengthening her resolve and steeling her nerves. She brought out Shin-ha's deadly grace, relaxing her tense muscles and create fluidity in her motion. She drew up Jea-ha's elegance, exhibiting her poise and looking like Heaven. Finally she took on Zeno's diligence, allowing attention to detail and a respect for patience.

 _"Hime, are you deaf?"_

She would not, _could not_ let this bear get in her head, his voice sending pleasant yet distracting shivers down her spine. The timber of his deep sound echoed throughout her person, leaving warm tingles in its wake. His words always messed with her mind nowadays, with its gruff quality, attention stealing melody, and his delicious Wind Tribe accent…

 _Focus_. She was a rock, and rocks don't crumble under the sound of a man's voice, they don't waver in the face of certain temptation, they don't-

 _"And much like you Hime-sama, rocks can't pour tea."_

Had she said that out loud? The girl looked down, noticing the slight puddle of the herbal substance growing slightly larger on the fine table in her bafflement. Why was Hak's presence so distracting, so demanding of all her thoughts? Why did he consume her mind with his playful teases and romantic advances? Why was he so ingrained into her mind that the most simple of tasks became mountain scaled challenges? Why couldn't she even pour his damn tea?! Why was his rough language rubbing off in her mind, the only place she should be able to have reprieve from his existence?!

 _"Hime..? Are you alright?"_

Hak stared at Yona, gazing at her soft face that changed expressions with her conflicting thoughts. She looked like an angel, her dawn-like hair now brushing her shoulders and fluttering ever so slightly in the breeze.. _and she was serving him tea._ Or at least she was trying to, but despite how terrible he knew the princess was at such mundane tasks, the opportunity to have her to himself was to much for his heart to pass up. However, in this current situation with his cup only partly full and his princess muttering about being a rock and other nonsense he didn't know what to do. And as much as the war going on through her mind amused him, he really wanted to know just what was bothering her, what could cause her to be even more terrible as a proper court lady.

 _"Ah no matter," he thought, "at least this tea comes with a show."_


	6. Chapter 6

I had an awesome thought for a happy fic but then for some reason I wrote angst. Sorry.

 _Not._

* * *

It's only when the blinding sun has set for the day, and the effulgent stars glitter in the cool night sky, and she has curled up in an _oh so comfortably_ warm and intimate embrace with him, that Yona realizes how little she knows about Hak's past, his past before Mundok and her. She's not ignorant, she knows there's a reason Hak hasn't spoke of those days, after all he was an orphan before they met and it was obvious that tragic childhood solitude bore heavily upon his shoulders. Such incidents only shaped a person's view of the world, _she would know._ So Yona takes it upon herself to impose in this serene tranquility, to learn and share his burdens, to truly _know_ Hak. Despite the new romantic aspect to their ever strengthening relationship, Hak had always been her rock, her protection and her fortress. Tonight however, Yona would be the one to endure mental struggle, to hold him when his chocked sobs and rattling gasps were the final noises of the night.

She had been blunt in the first question, not knowing how someone properly asks _'how did you become an orphan',_ or ' _why were you left alone_ '.  
She can feel the sharp inhale; her hands gently rubbing up and down his chest in the most soothing way she knows. It hurts her to see Hak this broken, understanding that she is the one to cause her lover to relive his undoubtedly horrid past, with Hak being the kind of person to block all ties to the plague of his memories.

" _It's okay,_ " she whispers, moving ever so slightly up his torso to hold his clenched jaw and utter supportive sweet nothings in his ear. _"We can share the pain, both yours and mine. Relax Hak, I'm here."_

He lets go then, releasing the torrent of unwavering nightmares he endured before his grandfather saved him from the clutching grasps of the darkness. He holds tighter when speaking of the father who did not act like a father or even a man, the father who was angry and cruel and drunk. _The father who hit the boy._

Hak begins to shake when he speaks of his mother who was strong and passionate, the gentle sweet beauty who tried to take as much of the abuse as she could, the mother who couldn't stand to see her little boy broken and bleeding and unmoving upon the floor. _The mother who loved the boy._

He grows cold and bitter as he thinks of the man who is biologically his father. Hak admits that the young boy of himself broke, not being able to watch his mother suffer because of an evil man. He admits that one night when his father was particularly rough, when his mother was nothing more than a twitching soul, crying out in fear and in pain, Hak snapped, taking the broken glass surrounding his mother and her tears and _her blood_ , and plunging it deep withing his father's chest. Hak admits, _he would do it again._

Hak tells her of how the two of them, his mother and himself, leave their village to try and make their living in the capitol of the Wind Tribe, how he meets Mundok and how the man has pity on the boy who's extremely protective of his mother. _The man who understands mercy._

He tells her of the daily ritual that had begun to originate, the mother working as a handmaiden in the castle, the boy training as a soldier to stay out of trouble. Finally he tells her of his ultimate loss, of the epidemic, that rushes through the streets of Fuuga, the disease unwavering and life sucking to all who caught it. He tells of the mother who had been working to hard to save up enough for a proper sword for the boy, the mother who is too weak from exhaustion to fight off the plague. _The mother who finally leaves him._

It's around this time Yona can feel him growing slack beneath her, realizing that's all she'll get out of him today and so she joins him in rest. And even though he's dozing off, she can still feel his arms tightly wound around her. It brings her peace, knowing that for now those arms aren't giving her support, but rather drawing on her strength.

 _He's opening up his soul, and she's taking in his heart, and they're sharing the pain._

* * *

Please leave a review guys, and tell me what you liked/didn't like about it!

Also if you have any requests or fic ideas, don't hesitate to send em'!


	7. Making upout

Oh... _yessssssss_

* * *

In reality it was cold out, frigid to be exact. The wind was sweeping through the campsite with icy particles stinging at the skin, slowing movements and freezing time. Snow drifted along the ground, erasing traces of the final autumn life and landing delicately upon the General and his Princess's persons. Even with the cold however, the night was beautiful, the moon at its peak, casting its soft illuminating shadow on the pair. They were held in place on their feet, no conversation being held, no words uttered, not even a whisper. Their positions as rigid as the ice covered nature in their midst, with their eyes locked in a chilling gaze.

However, despite the cold landscape and the icy setting, the tension was _burning_ between them, as if both were forced onto a path of fiery coals.

Hak was mad, no, _furious_ with her, his cobalt blue eyes blazing with concerned rage. His body was twitching, hands shaking, mouth snarling, and voice growling. He wasn't even trying to hide the crowding emotions that took possession of his soul and his face. It was not Yona's desire to have one of the few times Hak would actually open up and wear his heart on his sleeve be a moment of anger and worst, _scorching disappointment_. And to top it off, his blistering glare and smoking bitterness were well deserved, and therefore justified the searing acrimony he was about to unleash on her.

 _"_ _Hime... you, you foolish woman, you impudent BRAT!"_

 _"_ _Hak, I-"_

 _"_ _NO! You don't just get to placate me this time Yona! There will be no 'I'm sorry's' or 'But I'm fine Hak' to validate your reckless and irresponsible actions you committed today. Do you understand what could have happened?! You could have died! And I, I would have been nowhere near enough to have prevented it! What would I have done if you had DIED!?"_

His anger, however palpable it may have been, was laced with worry. His breaths were short and uneven, his eyes were wide and…wet? The realization hurt her with alarming force-

 _He's scared. Hak is_ _ **scared.**_

How could she have been so stupid to have not realized what pain her actions might have brought, after all what would she have done if Hak was dead?

He had calmed down at this point, his boiling fury now a simmering ache. He cast his face down, hoping to hide the tears that were threatening to spill from his expressive eyes. He clenched his hands into fists, hoping to compose himself, trying not to show his weakness. He knew it was too late though, his princess had grown substantially independent and observant over the years and at this point the warrior duo were as thick as thieves, rarely ever leaving each other's sides.

Maybe that's what made this experience so different, because even though she had nearly gotten herself killed before several times, none of them seemed as if they deserved the tongue lashing he had delivered this instance. Maybe it was her growing too independent, too determined to help everyone, too strong-

 _No, she would never be too strong for him, because he loved to watch her grow, loved to see her fight, loved to see her victorious. She would never be too strong because there was no such thing in his eyes._

No, Hak knew what was different this time. An accumulation of sweet nothings whispered into each other's ears late at night, of too many stolen glances when no one else was looking, of too many lingering touches that were not of a platonic nature, _of too many signs of their shared feelings being revealed._

The two had reached a pivotal point in their surprisingly fragile relationship. Both were afraid of what was yet to come, a love filled unbreakable bond to last till the end of their days or an awkward cracked hollow friendship that would take who knows how long to mend. Both knew what was at stake. They had been treading light as of late to avoid confrontation however it seemed fate was determined to set the next step into motion.

 _"_ _Hak...",_ she urged.

He wouldn't look at her. He didn't deserved to look at her, not after that outburst. She was her own woman, not one for him to control. He knew that.

 _"_ _Hak,"_ she called a second time.

His eyes darted up and made contact with hers. As much as he tried, he couldn't resist her lilting Sky tribe accent. It called to him, soothed his nerves, beckoned him to respond and he was a slave to its call.

However, it was only when her now slightly scarred and tanned palm reached up and brushed his cheek did he finally snap. Latching onto her small hand, Hak pulled her forward, flush against his chest. Her other hand grasping his robe. A moment of silence. Snow falling. Lungs racing. Eyes locking.

 _Hearts deciding._

They say _screw it_ to fate as their lips descend and meld passionately together, both fighting for the upper hand, both _loving_ the challenge. Their mouths move passionately, _reverently_ , against each other. She can't recall the exact moment when she loses, but it involves him sliding his hands into her hair, dragging his fingers across her scalp in the most delicious of ways. She falters. He pounces. His mouth lowers slightly to grasp her bottom lip in his teeth, pulling gently, eliciting a mewl from her writhing body. She also can't remember when her arms wrap around his powerful neck, but she decides, it's probably when he has somehow maneuvered them closer to the edge of camp and hoists her up against a nearby tree, shifting them so he can plunder deeper in her mouth. Then, it switches to something headier at this point. _Tongues are involved_. He presses into her even more so that there is no space left in between them, just his foundation with her wrapped around his core, with the tree supporting her back. It's intimate, so very intimate, _she thinks her head might explode. He thinks the same._

They only stop when the need to breathe has become just a little more important than their pleasure. Both faces are flushed, he's sporting the biggest shit-eating grin she's seen, and she's smirking in a manner he knows she picked up from him. Eventually he has to set her on her feet, the tree has become painful no doubt. They don't really need to talk about it though, at least not now, with their hearts settled and minds made up. There is only one conversation to be held among them now.

 _"_ _Hak, will this be my delegated punishment for whenever I do something reckless by your standards?_

 _"_ _Oh no Hime, I have a far more, let's say,_ _ **penetrating**_ _punishment planned for you."_

* * *

I refuse to apologize for that last totally discreet (not) sexual innuendo.


	8. Nightmare

Thank you guys so much for all your comments and reviews! You have no idea how happy it makes me to see them and how inspiring it is so I have decided that it's time to thank all of you.

FadingNoctis- Your little "I love it"s on several of my chapters make me so happy to see you're following my story, Thank you!

Guest on chapter 7- "Shit-eating grin" is a term we use where I'm from that basically means a really mischievous and up to no good grin, like for example if one person is about to tickle attack the other, they're usually sporting a giant grin that's promising trouble before they pounce. And maybe one day I'll make a more _penetrating_ sequel. (Once again I refuse to apologize.)

Starrymangos-YAS QUEEN. I loved that prompt so much and I'm so glad you like it- I didn't think I did it justice but If you're happy then I'm happy! And you're the star.

SafireRansomePoseidonsDaughter and Mutemuia- I'm really happy that you guys like how I portrayed Hak- I'm always afraid that I'm going to screw up their personalities so thank you for letting me know I'm doing at least that right!

Seasaltmemories- Mage Hak is one of my favorite things, if I ever decide to do like a multichapter story fic then it would probably be based in that world and I love how spunky Yona can be!

And to the rest of my guests- I'm happy when you're happy so thank you!

So without further ado, Enjoy.

* * *

Yona having a nightmare and hugging the hhb in tears after she awakes?

* * *

It was late that evening when the nightmare struck. She had gone to bed early, exhausted after another grueling sword lesson with Hak, the savage. It was then when her sleep had been plagued with gruesome failure. The specifics of her horrors fled in the midst of her wake and yet, she was shaken to her core. Perhaps it was the uncertainty of what her terror entailed that frightened Yona so much, or maybe it was the fact that no one else was around as she crossed back into reality's threshold. Bits and pieces of anguish and pain came back to her, flooding her senses and causing an emotional meltdown. The worst part however, was that she couldn't move; she was trapped in her body, awake but immobile. There was no yelling for her companions, no comfort in being able to see if they were still there-

 _Please, please be alive._

Her sanity depended on it.

* * *

The fire crackled and embers popped, with flames sizzling away at the dead bark. The sun had set long ago and it was deep dark nightfall now, which was a shame in Hak's opinion because he loved the twilight. It was something about the blend of night and day, spilling onto the precious earth in a simultaneous collage of colors and emotions. The trees would be cast black with shadows from the creeping night, while the sky threw splashes of maroon and salmon and coral with streaks of emerald and sapphire, and the wind was always _perfect_ , strong and unrelenting, pulling him back to his roots. There was something missing however…

 _Her. Yona. The princess. HIS princess. The Dragon Queen. The girl with the red hair._

She had gone to rest early, claiming fatigue from his exercise, but he knew she wouldn't sleep through the night if she continued on resting. With one glance at the rest of the dragons and Yoon, he knew they were thinking the same thing, it was time for her to wake. Yoon had already started dinner, which gave him an excuse to wake her and not be lashed at, because _heavens forbid if he or her slumber got in the way of dinner._ He rose and walked to her tent, pulling slightly at the flaps in order to watch her gentle sleeping face that he loved so much, only to be faced with her leaking eyes, wide open and frantic, searching for anyone to open her tent and save her from her stationary terror.

 _A waking nightmare._

His blood ran cold, it had been so long since she had seen her have one of these, with the last time being back when she was in the castle, that he almost couldn't act. But, when her pleading eyes met his and widened slightly in what seemed to resemble relief, his body lurched into motion. He quickly rushed to her side, brushing the fiery locks from her face, and pulling back her constricting blankets. She was practically sobbing now, whether in relief of his presence or in horror of the lingering after images, he did not know. What he did know however, was that this was the worst terror he had seen from her, and it would require not just her best friend, but the rest of her devoted family to soothe her plaguing dreams. Clearly some terrible fate had awaited them in her sleep, and it was time to release her from the pain.

Placing her quivering chin between his rough and warm forefinger and thumb, Hak nudged her forehead with his own in a familiar gesture of safety and comfort, promising a swift return. He left the tent in a flurry of robes and conviction.

* * *

It didn't take long for the group to climb into the tent with her, all thoughts of food and hunger eliminated in the presence of her agony. Her head was laid in Hak's lap, a gesture he developed to help her relax after one of these dreams. Her hands were enveloped by the green and white dragons, working feeling back into her frozen bones. Her calves were placed in the yellow dragon's care, with the sun filled man releasing the locked muscles that burned her stilled body. Her forehead had been covered by an herbal wrap and careful hands of a tearful genius boy, who couldn't take away her pain. And finally, her eyes were captivated by the beauty and peace in the blue dragon's pupils, distracting her from the misery of her soul.

 _Because, even though they may not have been able to shield her from her afflictions, they could at least share them until her strength came back, and the battle against her torment of the night was won._


	9. Rolling with the tide

modern AU involving best friends hakyona and prom?

There's actually a fic like this on tumblr that was so awesome but I can't seem to remember the name… Anyhow, I know this probably isn't what you had in mind so if you want another one shot just go ahead and ask! The reason why this one is kinda different than the prompt is because my personal prom sucked. Like it was awful, and I'm not just saying that because I hate going to those kinds of things, pretty much my whole senior class of 500 collectively agreed it was terrible. Personally I would've preferred taking a mini road trip with some friends and doing something exciting, not listening to basically the same song for 3 hours and watching people awkwardly grind on the dance floor while our teachers attempted to separate said grinders(actually that part was so awkward it was funny). So basically I have no idea how to write an actual fun prom fic with slow dancing on the dance floor but I hope this is an okay substitute! Also I might make 2 parts to this one, but I kinda enjoyed how it ended at least as a part one so I decided to see what you guys thought, leave a comment if you want a part two!

* * *

The evening should have been perfect, a picturesque scene, where they could shed the awkward tension hidden between the two _(slightly hormonal)_ teens. Hak had actually dressed nice, with his sharp, clean suit that Mundok had forced him into (Yona giggled at the thought of Hak wrestling his grandfather over something he ultimately knew he was going to have to wear) and a sapphire tie, matching not only her dress as was custom between dates, but also his magnetic eyes, she had noticed with crimson staining her cheeks. She darted her eyes away before they could make contact with his.

The music had been blaring all night, thumping in tandem with his migraine and his heart. Flashing lights cascading along the horde of teens bouncing out of sync only made him twitch more. Where was the soft holding and the easy swing of the movies? This sure as hell was anything but romantic. And here he had finally gotten the courage to ask her out after oh say about his entire life.

 _Nicely done, idiot. It's not like she didn't already feel uncomfortable being asked out by her best friend and all, the one she hadn't even realized had a crush on her since they were children, but hey that was kinda her fault and all since he had been in no way trying to hide said feelings and she totally was flirting with him these past few years and they were really close and-_

 _Stop it, you're literally having a rambling monologue. Who does that?_

Hak looked over, and glanced (who was he kidding, he was drooling like a puppy with its master) at the bright blue, flowing floor length gown she had adorned for the occasion. The way it draped over her frame, showing off the curves of her petite body and radiating the elegance of her essence, _it drove him mad,_ first with excitement (she had accepted his date proposal with a cute blush and a grin that matched his), but then with anger. She deserved better, not some cheesy dance with cheap food and poor music choices (and for some, poor life choices). He looked again. She seemed pensive, not hating the experience but definitely not enjoying it.

 _Oh yeah, there was no way in hell they were staying for this lame excuse of a party._

In that moment, she looked up at him hesitantly, noticing the growing smirk that always seemed its way on his face any time he had some idea that was definitely not in the original plan.

And once again, her grin matched his knowing only that whatever his stupid idea was, it would at east be stupid fun.

And as she grabbed his hand, savoring the warmth of his smile and personality, they shared the thought, _Let's blow this joint._


	10. Laughter

This was my secret santa gift to fellow akayona lover on tumblr and I hope you guys enjoy some Christmas cheer and have a Happy New Year!

(Really sorry I haven't updated in so long by the way, life has been beyond crazy for me and now I have time again.)

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 _ **Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face.  
-Victor Hugo**_

* * *

 _In the beginning, Time stood still._

The breeze, at some point, had stopped playing with the group, caressing their cheeks with her frigid fingers and releasing the snow to its final fate upon the beckoning ground, its icy journey over. Before them laid a hidden grove, unknown to the surrounding villages, a treasure obscure from unworthy eyes. Evergreens, Oaks, Furs, trees of all kinds circled the heavenly peace, their branches stretching to protect the land. Icicles, deadly with beauty, hung precariously like freshly shed tears, illuminated the grove in a soft palette of violets and ambers and crimsons when the morning sun shone through Mother Nature's wooden barricade like lanterns glowing in the twilight. Whether it had been in the snow storm last night or before, the white dust lay undisturbed, with bright holly berries peeking out with a tiny yet vibrant burst of color, dotting the otherwise cool colored area. It was all just like that of a painting, a mirage created from wandering the snow caped forest, just all so… _unreal._

Never in a million years had Yoon ever thought such a surreal scene was more than just his imagination, more than just his mind weaving tapestries of written fiction into a brief vision of colour and creativity. The stunning landscape was something so breathtaking, so phenomenal, that if he wasn't traveling with the dragons himself, Yoon would be an instant believer in the legends without needing to reason anything. Perfection was too lacking a word, too simple for the spectacle that made his mind crash into a complete stop… _and yet, something was terribly awry._

It was something of a sixth sense, a mother's intuition one of the others would fondly remark, within him that led the young caregiver of fifteen to realize that the situation at present was inherently _odd_. They were trekking across the frost covered mountains, the crisp winter air filling their lungs, in the usual formation the starving makeshift family had fallen into, the dominant Raijuu, walking a little too close to the energetic Princess in the front, where everyone had the entertaining view of watching snide remarks and furious comebacks fly back and forth in a pathetic display of flirting. Kind-hearted Kija and patient Shinha were usually next, with the white dragon trying to simultaneously explain the wonders of the world and search for bugs despite everyone's (except for Hak, the bastard) insistence that they were dead now while Shinha was content to merely listen and warm the small squirrel hiding in the white fur on the blue dragon's head. Jae-ha never actually had one specific spot in particular, instead flitting about from person to person, teasing and jesting and fighting (with Hak) and worrying, (he did actually care for his brothers but Hak would never hear that). Finally Zeno and Yoon headed up the back, with the elder watching, bliss and mirth radiating from his being while the genius next to him contemplated courses of action and attempted to read and walk at the same time.

However, this time no one was talking and even curiouser, _no one seemed to notice_. No sarcasm or insults were thrown, no questions inquired, not even Ao was chirping for food. But then again he supposed, who could even formulate a word and dared to disturb the masterpiece they were standing in.

 _And then Time pushed into action._

As if from the heavens above, a gust of wind broke through the wooden pillars, powerful enough to almost knock Yoon down, rocking the branches topped with snow and covering the others in a blanket of powder. Eyes widened, mouths twitched, and minds reeled back into reality. In that moment, everything crashed down, both literally and figuratively speaking. The moment had been ruined, the peace destroyed.

And then they laughed. Chortled. Snickered. Giggled like bumbling fools with joy leaping from their frozen bodies warming the moment, dancing cross the scene bringing life back the formerly cold beauty. Violet Starlings and sapphire Blue jays cawed back and forth in a war of banter like the innocent but fiery Sky Princess and the warm but stubborn Wind General, both with eyes matching the intense and natural colours of the proud birds respectively.

And then the two shared a look, one flickering several emotions at once, fondness, nostalgia, mischievousness, competition.

And then the rest of the family shared a look of their own, of rolling eyes and 'just kiss already's' and pure uncorrupted glee.

And then the fight broke out, obsidian and crimson hair tumbling into the white powder, tossing and turning, attempting to freeze the other in a childish and icy contest but mostly just flailing about in the midst of their strength zapping snorts while the others began to dance and jump and leap and soar and _nothing else mattered._

And then the aloof healer decided it was okay to be free, and joined in the fray, not as the wizened medic, but as the young boy, with a head filled with scribed adventures and wistful dreams and surrounded by loving family and warm emotions.

…

 _And then Time grinned._


	11. Tease

She was going to kill him one of these days, or perhaps, it was the other way around: _he was going to be the death of her._ That muscled and mouthwatering dream of a man was going to tease and mess with her fragile and innocent mind- _'Innocent,' he would snort. 'Hardly. We both know you can easily be worse than me Princess'_ \- and reduce her to nothing more than the world's most flustered woman (she enjoyed his advances though she would never tell him that).

It had begun with a slip of the hand, which led to disturbance on the overfilled cup, which inevitably led to the spill, and then to top it all off the involuntary uttering of a foul oath. It was the time old sequence of events that only caused mischief when those of sarcastic eyes and smirking grins ever happened upon the mishap of the already suffering soul. Such jerks were ever the opportunistic kind, leaving no room for a fight against oppressive wit and devilish humour. Yona was no stranger to the merciless jokes and unending wit, not when she was married to a certain sadistic wind tribe warrior (seriously what did Mundok do to these guys?!). Often times she was left as nothing but a flustered mess. Her steaming mug, precariously held by the handle and her small fingers, tipped ever so slightly as to spill a miniscule cloth staining amount of coffee onto her favorite shirt. _Consequently, it also happened to be_ _his favorite shirt too before she stole it._

 _"Oh fuck me…"_

 _"Cruder than usual, but I'm up for a challenge any day."_

And there it was. That stupid, cocky, annoyingly sexy smirk of his, stretched across an incorrigible face, perched on the overly defined _-It's called working out and being in shape Princess-_ towering form. He was like a… well like a hawk, always searching for the slightest weakness, opportunistic in every way. Hak pushed his body off the doorway wall that he had been leaning on and observing her from afar. He walked slowly and silently up to her, like a beast stalking its prey, all the while never letting his facial features slip. If anything that irritating smirk was getting bigger.

 _She hated that she loved it._

 _"That wasn't an invitation for mischievous warriors to have a field day. Even more, aren't you supposed to be protecting me from these situations rather than initiating them?"_

The only response from the predator himself was to get even closer, eyes pointed, never straying from his objective. Hak was a determined man, but better yet he was clever as hell and knew exactly what had to be done in such a fleeting opportunity.

 _"I mean it Hak. I just want to finish my coffee in peace. Leave me be you beast."_

The man, heedless of her words, crouched down into her face, consuming all chance at having personal space. His black fringe swept across his face, as if the element his tribe had been so aptly named after caressed it with her loving fingers. His eyes darted back and forth between her eyes and lips, trying to figure out which would be focused on first and the finally settling for her eyes, staring intently with no room for escape. And then, _then he did that thing with those sapphire orbs, that thing she loved,_ that thing where his lids lowered and his pupils dilated and he radiated desire. _And then he hummed a low lustful sound_. How was she supposed to resist? All hormones in her petite body flared to life, colouring her cheeks with fire and turning her the same shade as that bright mess on her head.

Too entranced by Hak's proximity, Yona never even had the chance to notice the firm hand that came to grasp her chin, tilting the reddened woman ever so slightly as focus all attention on him and only him. Yona tried her best to think of anything and everything that might possibly save her from a death by teasing, Yoon yelling at Zeno, or Kija screaming at bugs, or maybe something humiliating to Hak, like having to go into battle with just his underwear _-oh… oh no, that last image wasn't helping at all._ It was as if every sense in her body was heightened, the way he leaned towards her ear, the way his breath floated across he sensitive skin as his mouth ghosted over her earlobe, nipping strategically along the path, the way his musk permeated her smell and derailed any coherent thought. And that was it, she was a goner. She was so wrapped up in every romantic and sinful fantasy her mind had ever derived and so ready and willing to just let go, that she had forgotten one critical detail.

 **That little shit was grinning harder than ever.**

 _"I'm could really go for some dumplings this evening."_

And then Hak, in all his merciless pomp just sat down, just sat the fuck down, leaving her breathless and wanting. _Wanting to throttle that moron._

So, there was only one dignified thing to do in this entirely undignified situation. Yona snatched that stupid pillow laying on the stupid couch where his stupid ass sat, and **went to town**.

 _"Oh for the love of all that is good in this world!"_

Smack. Slap. He had tried to defend, but to no avail. She was relentless in her beating.

 _"When I'm through with you, you'll wish you'd never even woken up this morning!"_

There may have been a snort from him but it had been silenced with a whack and had been irrevocably changed into a yowl.

 _"That's right, you better cower!"_


	12. Of Master and Servant

This takes place in chapter 52 if you guys are wondering, when Yona tries to sneak off with Hak's sword in order to learn sword fighting on her own. Enjoy!

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Requested prompt: Yona is still too weak. She needs more power in order to protect her dear ones.

* * *

It was almost surprising how unsurprised Hak was. Truly he was not baffled or confused, because Hak had already come to the conclusion long ago that the situation at present was inevitable. Of course just because the concept of Yona sneaking up on him and stealing his sword in the middle of the night under innocent pretenses was a legitimate concern he had forced himself to accept, did not mean Hak was fully prepared for when the time came, even if it had already happened once before. This time however, she was fully committed to learning the sword, the stubborn brat. Over the year, he had watched his princess, his vain, selfish, and childish princess Yona grow and flourish into a woman with a heart like no other, willing to take up anything if it meant protecting the innocent and people she cared about. However she was becoming obstinate. He had deliberately told her no, the first time she had tried to steal his knife, and now here she was doing the same damn thing while he was sleeping. She really did not have the stealth nor subtlety for this deception to be done twice.

Worst of all was the physical predicament he had placed them in. Hak had not thought this entirely through. It was bad enough when the warrior and his beloved (as Jae-ha would insist) were cuddled next to each other, Yona leaning on him for warmth and comfort, curled perfectly against his side, looking tantalizing and definitely kissable… _Oh man, he had it bad_ … But then she just had to go and try to steal his sword. Hak wanted to be mad, really he did, but _damn if he didn't love that fire within_. In his attempt to reveal Yona's misgivings however, Hak had screwed himself, twisting his body and practically tackling her to the ground, tangling himself in her arms. The position was not uncomfortable at all, if one did not include the idea of the fellow camp members surrounding the situation, and in fact was like something from one of his (and her) more _risqué_ dreams. Hak pinned her wrists to the ground, effectively trapping Yona's petite frame beneath him, her gasping in shock, him exhaling in frustration. The moonlight up above did wonders for her already glittering amethyst eyes, casting its pale shadow over her soft skin framing her face in silver like an angel. The image of Hak from her perspective was something a little different, the night sky illuminating his silhouette perched over her, his sapphire eyes piercing in the dark, his hair windswept and wild like an untamable beast (she would deny the way her heart sped up and the way her skin flushed). So, what was a guy like Hak to do, with his childhood love underneath caught red-handed disobeying him in a poorly planned thievery, but to angrily confront her?

"If you're going to sneak up on me in my sleep," Hak growled, crowding her space and pausing for emphasis, " _Can't you do it sexier? Princess._ "

Despite the teasing nature of his remark, even Yona could feel the bitterness laced throughout his words and tone. However, this time Yona would refuse to back down. This was important, protecting her loved ones and solving conflict, nothing would stop her. Yona wasn't going to give. Looking Hak directly in the eyes and steeling her shaking voice, she peered up at him innocently. "But Hak, if I can't even do this, it's likely you won't be my swordsmanship partner."

Those bright girlish shining eyes and her lilting heavenly voice… he didn't buy one bit of the supposed innocence from that devilish imp in her angelic disguise.

"So when you said I was 'fine'," his face twitching and smile straining against his hard set jaw, "You meant it like _this?_ "

With Yona's eyes fierce and look determined, she nodded her head fervently, rustling her crimson hair and disturbing the leafy ground declaring a cruel and ego bruising _'That's right!'_ She was so unintentionally mean. Her persistence of this sword fighting subject was maddening, unrelenting in pressure, a waterfall of tenacity and conviction. Who was Hak kidding, he was fighting a losing battle against this woman, and it was only when the poorly hidden snickers and faint shuffling of blankets were no longer unnoticeable that the Thunder Beast remembered his broken pride was broadcasted to the others in the camp. With another full body twitch, Hak pulled Yona firmly up from her dusty crime scene, intent on having a private conversation away from prying eyes and stalked, hand firmly on hand out, stomping with animosity. Later, Hak would deny all claims of the swift kick to the entirely deserving green dragon's head as he stormed off. When they had come upon a location that Hak had finally deemed suitable, he began for a second time.

"So… swords again?" It was more of a pensive statement rather than a legitimate question; somewhere deep inside he knew what the outcome to this talk would be. She was stubborn, always had been, and always was able to talk him into one of her schemes that inevitably got them in trouble. This would be no different from when they had been young and carefree children but he could at least put up a fight, however failing it would be.

"I know you oppose it Hak. I've been practicing alone since then." Yona's hands had clenched into tight fists, and he internally snorted at the fact that she had taken up the sword anyways. _Typical, doesn't even know what she's supposed to do but does it anyways_. "But… If I do it alone there will be limitations. Never have I regretted my own powerlessness as I did this time." She wasn't looking him in the eye anymore, her head heavy, her eyes downcast.

"It isn't your fault that you couldn't help that child." Pointless words given the darkening mood, as she was prone to blaming herself incessantly for things that were in no way her fault; Hak knew this well, they both shared this fault but keeping silent would have been worse so the unnecessary became a necessity. Furthermore, the kind and merciful princess was surrounded by an ominous atmosphere. The cool breeze was no longer the reason for the chill in the air.

"I've been thinking…" The irises of her eyes had dimmed unsettlingly and glazed over like cooling obsidian, "If… I had more power… If I had the power to save that child… If I had the power to loosen myself from those bandits… If I had the power to keep Shin-ah from getting injured…"

More, more, more…

MORE.

The air was silent, holding its breath, as she did the unthinkable. Yona leaned forward, dipped her body and bowed… ** _to him_**. She had demoted herself to less, given up all authority, had changed the positions of master and servant that had been so completely ingrained into his being and was hurtling pass the line of acceptable behavior. He could do nothing but look on in shock, as if her words were lighting upon his rigid metal frame.

"Hak. Please. I… want strength," she had whispered, body trembling with trepidation and power deprivation. She was… begging him, pleading with him in the aftermath of her tormenting emotions for strength that he had always been willing to give, and quickly letting go of all royal stature in a way that was wholly inadmissible.

"Teach me the swo-!?"

" **Stop**!" The words thrown from his mouth like burning coals from the inferno. Hak couldn't, wouldn't allow her to do this, to grovel like a lesser being when she was so entirely above him in all humanly possible ways. His voice boomed, like the clapping thunder he was named after, echoing the laws of the land, crowding upon Yona to force her to remember what authority was rightfully hers to call upon.

" **You are my master. A master should never lower their head for a servant**."

Yona started at his stiff tone, tentatively raising herself, eyes widening in shock and meeting his narrowed ones in an interlocking gaze. The breeze gently brushing her crimson curls tepidly, as if it was as unsure of the situation as she was. Hak seemed more than just disappointed. He was angry, outraged even, but such irritation was directed more at her ignorant words than at her inexperienced self. She was quiet, processing his commanding voice, and upon realizing she could not rectify the situation herself, Yona turned to the man who put her on edge emotionally more than she cared to admit, and questioned him softly.

"What… What should I do?"

"You should order me." Hak was unwavering in his stance, putting his entirety into his carefully chosen words. "If you earnestly order me to do it," he continued honestly and intensely, proving his full devotion to the true heiress of the Kouka Kingdom he loved with his passionate response, "I can't refuse it."

Her mouth opened in silent gasp and her eyes searched his for finality and strength. With just a moment of his fierce loyalty supporting her, Yona made up her mind. Her eyes came to life with burning determination, her spine straightened, pushing her shoulder back and holding her head high, looking like the Princess she truly was in front of the one person who was never to forget who Yona was. The wind had picked up, throwing her hair dancing across her face like an inextinguishable fire. She was a princess, a survivor, a warrior, a legend, a dragon. She was his queen and he would follow her to the ends of the earth and his life.

"Hak," Yona commanded, "Teach me the sword. **That's an order**."

Instantly and without hesitation Hak dropped to his knees with unbidden pride and bursting allegiance to the merciful and fearless leader he dedicated his soul to. And for the first time since the murder of her father and his king, Hak became the unshakable General loyal only to the rule of his Princess Yona. He bowed his head in clear approval of her newfound regality and acknowledged the corrected positions of master and servant.

 _"As you command, Hime."_


	13. Irony

So uh... this is late.

Irony.

In hindsight, he should've expected this, after all, spending the day in the serene tranquility that was the Kouka Palace courtyard was almost never peaceful with _that_ _ **brat**_ running around. Things had been quiet and Hak, lacking in all commitment and duties, was content to laze about for the warm day. The young boy, dressed in beads and feathers and robes and sarcasm had a full stomach and a prime napping spot and no one was there to bother him.

The day had been perfect _, too perfect_.

Hak really should've expected this, expected **her**. Just visiting the castle nowadays meant babysitting and spoiled whines and everything _her._ Even her old man, the king had tried to get him to be permanently by her side as a bodyguard for what would be essentially the rest of his life. Hak had no intention of being some nobleman's personal dog, no matter what ' _his chubbiness'_ attempted too persuade him with. Being by Yona's side every day and every night, talking and listening, teasing and dodging, it would be way to much like they were actually married only without the fun stuff… like intimacy and romance and- _NOPE, time to get rid of that thought, stupid teen hormones._ Besides what kind of bodyguard wouldn't use weapons to defend his charge, _what a happy-go-lucky king._

So when Princess Yona, sporting hair as fiery as her annoying(ly cute) personality, came bounding in stride with his name springing forth from her lips and tinged in slight desperation, Hak really should've known that he was going to be dragged into some mess of hers. However, once Yona had set her sights on her prey, there was no escaping fate. She had coming floundering to his presence crying, ' _Haku',_ with that irritatingly adorable Sky tribe accent of hers, adding an unbelonging vowel to the end of his name, and with some problem, some mess no less… probably just needed help dealing with the consequences of one of her stupid pranks. The mess in question opposed to his initial judgement, was as she had stated, an informal courting from the fire tribe's second son… Kan Tae Jun, Tan Kae Jun… Hak didn't care enough to remember. Whatever the prick's name was didn't hold weight in Hak's mind, all he wanted to do was to take a nap as far away from the conflict as possible.

Nonetheless, hearing that young, spoiled Yona was being courted for actual marriage from such an absolute moron was definitely a highlight of the otherwise placid and lax day. The situation was so utterly ridiculous and absurd that Hak had cackled obnoxiously and slapped his knee with a few loud thwacks. _It was about time she got a taste of her own persistent and demanding medicine._ The princess was always running to him for every little complaint and problem and damn if it wasn't aggravating knowing she was only looking for his help because _her precious Soo-won wasn't there._ Really, he felt so pathetic too, getting angry over his best friend and the object of her unrequited love, or whatever the child called the kind teenager. It had taken true Wind tribe willpower and grit but Hak had been able to play off his bitterness and jealousy with his usual sarcasm and teasing until _of course_ she had all too not subtly shoved it in his face that _'Soo-won would never say that'_ and then things had snowballed from there… then the heart cracked teen lost it. He had just upped and let loose, yelling with bitter cynicism and indignation _because he wasn't Soo-won and if she wanted his help then she should've lowered her own damn expectations_ and stomped hastily away.

That was it, he had thought, the day had been ruined. Hak's date with the largest tree in the courtyard and afternoon sunshine was now gone and to be lamented along with his lack of sleep and now sour mood. Mundok had noticed for sure, the old man always noticed when something went wrong. He was too in tune with others emotions, especially to the closed off and independent Hak who just wanted to steep in self-pity and wounded pride.

 _Stupid old men and their stupid old observant ways._

The _'gentle until Hak committed a fallacy'_ man always knew when Hak's moody side took over apart from his usual dour self, leaving the uncouth punk to sulk and wallow like the child he tried so hard not to be. The obsidian haired boy when left to his own devices would without doubt pretend like his especially crabby attitude meant nothing was wrong and almost ultimately failed every time. The real kicker to the old general in this particular instance however, had been when Hak haughtily threw back an obviously grouchy _when are we going back_ and a poorly veiled _nothing's wrong_ dripping with attitude on top. Well, whatever the boys problem, it wasn't Mundok's concern, after all he had been instructed not to argue with Hak because ' _that's how buildings are destroyed'_ and this old man was not going to get any younger by having a battle with an angsty teen. So he had left and Hak was allowed to finally brood in silence…

 _Until of course_ _ **she**_ _showed up._ _ **Again.**_

Yona had come to him brokering no excuses but instead spurting out an explanation, an apology, and a dressful of fruit and that was all it took for his anger and jealousy to just run off like she was doing right then. She had made some brief speech about being a princess and that _princesses also had to take responsibility sometimes_ and how _she was sorry for acting like a child_ and that _finally the fruit was for him_. Honestly, Hak had never been so stupefied in his entire life. Did his princess truly just own up to her mistakes? Did Yona really bring him enough fruit to last him days and as an apology no less? His brain really couldn't take much more drama for the afternoon and so, young naïve Hak just decided to assume the emotionally unpredictable day was over.

His calculations had wrong before of course, but Hak had never been so utterly wrong before in his entire life. He had wandered the gardens aimlessly after her quick amends, looking for another place to lie in the sun when he finally heard the chime of her voice nearby for the third time that day. She was standing up for herself for once, posture regal and unrelenting, character fierce and magnificent, but it seemed like for all her effort, his childhood friend was fighting a losing battle _. This_ _ **asshat**_ just couldn't seemed to take a hint, pushing and pulling, purring _'kitten'_ down her frame. He thought his voice was butter but the jerk was more like lard. It was disgusting. Revolting. Nauseating. He hated nobility, detested every little thing about it. The guards, worthless as ever, had only been able to go search for the king rather than getting involved in actually protecting the princess for fear of livelihood or maybe job security or some other _stupid bullshit_. Yona had just cried out a weary _stop_ again. _Damn he really hated nobility._ He could get involved, but that… that was a commitment for life, that taking over as her sole protector and knight… that, would be his history. Hak knew what getting involved meant. He was young, not an idiot.

Asshat number one pulled harder.

 _Shit he hated nobility._

In the blink of an eye or more appropriately like a flash of lighting, Hak had flitted over and forced his way between the two nobles, the looks of surprise on both their faces had him smug. King Moron cried like a hurt puppy demanding his name and status and _'how dare he interrupt such an important meeting, do you know who my father is, who do you think you are?!'_ Hak had responded in the only way that seemed to come to mind, announcing his rank with an articulate passion that shocked even himself as the next _Chief and General of the Wind Tribe_ , shoving superiority right down Sir Lord of the Cries throat. The burn of the noble should've been the end of the whole mess, but once again Hak just had to go one step further and announce his fervent and ardent and totally (not at all on his side) fake love and engagement- _Ugh,_ _of all things to say you moron!_ Maybe he was an idiot _._ He really did not deserve to be the next person in charge of the whole Wind Tribe. Whatever, the guy was finally starting to get the hint… until he didn't. Next level acting was needed, Yona was needed and they were going to have to sell their relationship. This would undoubtedly be not only Hak's final undoing but Hak's wakeup call to start a little thing called _'thinking before acting around the damn princess!'_

 _'You're not really in love with this heathen are you Princess?!'_

Pause.

Yona flashed bright red.

 _Wait. No. Stop._

Pause.

 _'Y… Yes! I love Hak!'_

Pause.

 _Well… shit._ Now he was colored as crimson as her hair _. Did this to myself_.

Really, Hak had no one to blame but himself. He was done for now, Hak with blushing princess in arms and desperate yet clever wit on his tongue somehow managed to wordplay his way past the hormonal love-struck mess of a kid he was inside and truly convince the doubtful party of the nature of their relationship. Hak honestly was just trying to convince himself that any of this was happening when the creep decided to get violent and try to pull a sword on young warrior. A fight, a fight was something Hak could deal with, this was where Hak would really shine, no one was better than the Thunder Beast, especially not some snot nosed brat in need of a good ass kicking. Hak had been ready, eyes gleaming like a demon, body tense like a wild animal, just waiting for metallic _shing_ of a sword being unsheathed when… his highness arrived? King Il had been able to diffuse the situation with authority not normally associated with his being. Lord of the Cries scurried off, tailed tucked between his legs and head bowed in shame.

 _'I didn't know the two of you felt that way about each other, I'm happy for the both of you.'_

Of course the peaceful king would hear that little spiel, how long had he been standing there anyways. The two teens broke apart as ungracefully as possible, sputtering hurried ' _it'snotlikethat!'s'_ and other excuses.

And then the king got serious. Hak had taken that final plunge into the protector role the moment he stepped into that argument. Hak had even managed to defend her without using weapons at all… **_what a clever king_**. Hak kneeled and bowed and swore his oath of loyalty to be everything he never asked for, everything irritating and disruptive to his whole way of life, and all because of that stupidly clever king and his annoyingly stunning daughter _._

 _Grandpa was right._

 ** _Irony was a bitch._**

 ** _I have no excuses as to why this is like 7 months late so please enjoy_**


	14. Every Other Freckle

Merry Christmas, I swear these drabbles aren't dead yet! For all of you who have commented, especially the most recent ones I've never addressed, I love you guys and your comments make me laugh and feel so happy! Thanks for reading!

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In Hak's eyes, Yona was a goddess, a woman transcending all understanding of the word divine… and _fuck him_ if she wasn't _**divine**_ **.**

 _Honestly she could fuck him no matter what, he wasn't picky._

She was the incarnation of beauty and allure and bewitching in every way his hormone induced dreams could imagine. Her hair was a crimson chaos normally when the breeze combed through her hair and lifted her sweet scent just into his range, driving him as wild as her locks, but on this day, this gift from whatever gods were up there, her soaking, sopping hair was a deeper shade, a flood of scarlet wine sticking to all her curves and grace… and here Hak was drinking in her _everything_ , the sole witness to her heavenly splendor in their hidden cove, a worn and weathered stone wall blocking the beach that had previously been connected before the tide rose. The water glinted and glittered reflecting in her eyes, turning them from lovely and majestic magenta into a coy and beckoning amethyst as she twisted and locked their gazes leaving him shell shocked on his perch at the edge of the last bit of eroded floor within the still cave. Her mouth was parted from the remnants of a deep inhale of air after her glorious emergence from the crystal waters. And then there were the freckles, the drops of sun sprinkling her skin. _Shit, those weren't always there._ In their tedious travels her once pale skin, absent of any trace of hardship or pain had tanned to a no less elegant shade, forged from the love and passion she abundantly gave to her people through her tear-filled labors.

 _Dragon Princess or not, Hak would worship her to the end of his days._

The crackling tension, the coy princess, and his overactive male libido all led him to the same conclusion; it was high time Yona was properly **glorified**.

When Yona had floated soundlessly to his careening perch, his domain, Hak pulled her from the sea's grasping fingers and into his promising hold, backing up fluidly to allow her some semblance of standing room before he threaded his fingers into her hair and brought them together through sealed lips. Mouths working gently against each other as merging tides, they fell into a rising swell of fervor dipping in and out of breaths, and swaying with the ebb and flow of their desires. Her hands ran up and down the smooth planes of his strong back, showering trails of spitting fire down his spine, climbing the dips and edges of hardened muscle. With her hands preoccupied, Hak worked magic with his firm jaw, pushing and pulling at her taste, massaging his calloused fingers into her sensitive scalp, letting off the chain reaction of sparks through her eager nerves, opening her mouth and allowing him to practically consume her.

 _She gasped, he went deeper._

 _She moaned, he played_ _ **dirtier**_ _._

While distracting her curious lips and even curiouser hands, he curled his fingers into her thigh and backed her against the uneven wall, pushing sinfully at her senses, sending her keening in his grasp. Yona, not one to just take, rocked sultry into him, rubbing her hips into Hak in unison motions with his tongue probing hers. He broke off, taking in much need air before latching on to her neck with twice the intensity before, leaving hickies up and down the column of her slender throat and pulling a cacophony of gasps and pants and breathy little _'Hak's'_ from her heaving frame. Excited fingers from her and naughty chuckles from him led to their literal and immediate downfall as the two crashed into sandy cove and rolled around in their careless freedom. In the castle, Hak was a lowly bodyguard, destined to track her beauty in a physical closeness that seemed so far, but now, **_now_** he was the man she loved, tasked with revering her in a way no other man would; in the castle, Yona was the spoiled yet caring princess, forever disregarding the notion that her childhood friend could ever be reason for erotic dreams and restless nights.

 _"_ _Hak,"_ she inhaled coyly, pulling away momentarily and quirking her lips teasingly towards him _, "what_ _ **will**_ _the others say?"_

Snorting in amusement towards her effortlessly cheeky comments, he retorted dryly. _"Depends on who's talking Princess. If it's droopy eyes, we'll probably get a 'bout damn time' out of him. Now stop worrying about the others and stop distracting me. If you'll let me have my way, I promise you, you won't even have time to think about them tonight."_

She squealed, he smirked, and together they molded back into a tangled mess of desperate limbs and frantic desires.

 _The sun was setting, the tide was rising, and there was_ **_no way in hell_** _they were heading back to camp tonight. Damn Droopy eyes could just leave it to his imagination if he really wanted to know where they were._


	15. Thief

By the way this is inspired off the song called Thief by Ookay so if you hear that song that's where some of the lines come from. On other note i posted this who knows when a while back as a stand alone fic but I feel like it belongs in this collection so im just putting it here now so not technically new unless you haven't read it yet! But now that the semester is over yall will probably see some more fics again!

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 _Thief_

Sometimes, within the bustling city spaces on active urban fields, surrounded by cascading steel terraces topped with metallic monuments reaching for milky sky, so consumed by mingling peoples and cultures alike alongside the classic downtown and the innovative metropolis, the extraordinary became just simply, the _extra_ ordinary. The crass yelling and crude hand motions from the embittered drivers with sputtering engines, the squawking and flapping of the billion birds nesting in expensive rooftop verandas laced with vines and vanity, the melodic piano murmuring soft tones in the lull of the harmonious café, these were all essential elements to the soothing chaos that was the great megalopolis. The grandiose city, its existence hinging solely on the contradictory and complex characters that created the core, never truly slept, being that there was always someone somewhere was doing something. The city lived and breathed the people in its well-worn cracks and crevices, its hidden alleys and secret safe havens. It had been the location of many things, quarrels and quips, laughter and love, joy and jubilance, exhilaration and ecstasy, calm and quiet. The city embodied all of these and more for the city watched the people and the people brought life to the city, with their successes and failures, their loves and hates, their hellos and goodbyes. The city watched the mother with the night shift and two kids doing her best. It watched the elderly man who threw bird seed in the local park to the persistent birds and the community center hosting the local fair to bring people together.

The city was watching even late at night in the small yet familiar cafe when the girl with the curling crimson hair and the coffee stained lecture notes packed her bag, heaved a sigh and prepared to trek home to what was once a sanctuary for two occupied by one, only to look out at the weather warped glass and eyes stop on the boy with obsidian fringe and determined jaw, soaked in the drizzle of the storm, covered in head to toe in muted colors and muddled hope, the owner of her all too oversized flannel and internal conflict, _You_. Like lightning in a blackened sky, his electric blue eyes flashed with striking emotion when he focused on her. He looked almost confused to see her there, as if she was a figment of his cruel imagination, playing tricks on his busy mind. He had sprinted to see her, praying she would still be there, evidenced by the pounding of his chest and the puffs of air made visible by gasping mouth and the chill outside. With gazes locked in the intrepid unforeseen, he made up his mind, breaking their standstill moment in time, breathing deep the smoky air of the city, closing his parted lips, and walking in the frost covered door.

 _She was frozen in place, he was moving into her space._

His booted steps were inaudible to anyone but her, scuffing slightly against the ground in the warmth of the humming café. In what was her eternity and his blink of an eye, he crossed the oak floor littered with beloved nicks and quiet jazz until they were sharing the breathless atmosphere.

 _"Hak…" she breathed._

 _"Yona…" he murmured._

The café chattered on around them, lives mingling in the gentle presence, not breaking their moment in the slightest. Their meeting could have been an accident if he hadn't rushed to the home of their memories with her being in his mind. The boy had worked for far too long for a chance meeting in the safe haven of their ardor and agony, in their love and pain.

She was a deer in headlights, _stuck in place but wholly looking as if she wanted to bolt from the space,_ and _serendipity be_ _ **damned**_ if he wasn't going to take this fleeting chance.

 _"I know you're scared, because somebody told you I was up to no good,"_ he quietly started with antiqued lights reflecting in his eyes like stars in the night _"but I'll be here, waiting for the chance to take you out of this neighborhood."_ There was no turning back, not after the subtle confession encased in promises and understanding she caught all too well.

 _Like a thief in the night, he was coming for her heart._

Red hair shuffling and shuttering as she shook her body- _and his world_ -in unbidden laughter and joy, she was defenseless against his stupid love. She sprung into his hopeful open arms accepting his poor but entirely ' _him'_ vow, knocking the shocked boy back a few stunned steps before he latched back on just as greedily. Refusing to break their long awaited reunion, he ran a calloused hand through her velvet hair and tilted her head back to meet his elevated eyes, and he kissed her with all the gentle passion in his yearning body. His mouth stilled on hers, simply craving her contact which enraptured him… but it was she who relished in his return, fervently refusing to stay still and delighting in his stunned bashfulness. He would tease her later for being so daring as to initiate intimacy she was not familiar with in a place so public but for now she could at least delight in his embarrassment. She was no longer the blushing girl he had remembered, no, she was woman of fiery emotions and flaming desires. Who was he to deny?

Stopping only when the whistles and cheers of the local patrons became too much for either to ignore, he gathered her belongings and reached for her hand, leading the girl out of the cozy café to the frosty road outside, but not without turning to the catcallers inside and taking a deep bow with a smirk on his devilish face. He emerged from the building to be embrace with a barrage of slaps and huffs from a flushed girl he was entirely too in love with for it to be healthy.

 _"There's a whole wide world for us to see,"_ he promised with his usual air of snark and mischief and adventure, _"the only thing you gotta do is follow me."_

The city grinned. **_He was just a selfish ghost_** **.**


	16. Vim

Happy Fourth! since America and I share a birthday week I figured it was due time i gift yall the gift of hakyona so happy fireworks and stay safe! Also this is is sorta au where yona also has a crush on hak while theyre still in the castle

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 _Vim: (Noun) lively or energetic spirit; enthusiasm; vitality._

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Yona was nothing more than a child and as far as Hak was concerned would always be one, forever destined to bewilder him with her entirely clever mind that seemed only ever focused on gluttony, vanity, and pride. Yes of course Yona had always been predisposed with a naturally kind and benevolent spirit however her character was prone to flaws predictable of one raised a sheltered spoiled princess. Her youthful disposition often lead to naïve impulses of the heart and juvenile adventures that _always got him in trouble_. Still, Hak had never been able to help the budding feelings that stemmed from an innocent childhood attachment to a wild princess and her callow games from growing into a not so simple love. It seemed he and trouble were kindred spirits.

Growing up, the insatiable princess had been a pain to deal with, a lovable and adorable pain but a massive pain nonetheless. As small children, her curiosity demanded she know everything and anything about the stubborn-Hah! She was one to talk- and reserved new Wind tribe orphan boy and the mystery his personality and past presented. If Hak was honest, he had never been able to figure out if her incessant interrogations were formed out of genuine intrigue or if it was all just a way to distract he mind from the lingering heartbreak of the death of a most beloved mother. The older he got however, the more Hak decided that the reason didn't actually matter, as long as Yona was happy and free then his heart was (mostly) at peace. Her loneliness often deprived him of the naps under the large willow tree just shy of the courtyard he so desired and her eagerness demanded his full attention.

In short, Yona had been a handful, his handful to be precise.

Hak played victim to her never-ending questions, bribed with fruits and snacks and- _was that cake? He supposed he had time for a few more of her queries._ Despite his insistence that she was annoying and needed to leave him alone, Hak never could actually bring himself to shake off the red haired mania that was the cute princess. It had nothing to do with the scarlet that stained his cheeks and the all too erratic pitter patters of his cracked heart when her tiny body barreled into him with a force she should not physically possess. It had nothing at all to do with any of those things, Yona was just easier to deal with when she got her way and he was simply an incredibly patient and indulging friend… **yeah that was it**.

 _"Hak, wanna play a game?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Pleeease?"_

 _"…Fine… but I'm_ _ **not**_ _dressing up again…"_

By the time they were in their early teens, Hak had developed a mostly comfortable and witty rapport with the princess he had tried so hard not to think about. She still insisted on the questions and established her authority over his free time, but her execution with her diction had become somewhat haughty and snooty and contained a bizarre yet subtle bite. He hated how easily she excelled in snooty… and how attracted to it he was. Her sharp words and coy expressions shot straight through his heart… amoung other places. Yona with all her condescending attitudes and pompous extravagance had turned into everything Hak hated and for some reason he just loved the pretentious princess even more. How could he say no to those ruby red lips and those coquettish amethyst eyes?

What was he supposed to bring to the table against a spoiled princess who would inevitably get her way using nothing more than a demure pout? Well pick up the wholesome hobby of teasing her till she was at her wits end of course. And so, with this new element added to his arsenal of retort, Hak had finally won the upper ground in all their exchanges and hide his very obvious crush under a thin veil of mockery. Yona was hungry? All he needed to mention was that she was always hungry aaand if she didn't seem to notice that well then no wonder she was starting to look like one of those dumplings she loved. Yona's hands hurt? It was probably all that twiddling of her thumbs the poor thing, did Yona need some ice or maybe a massage? Yona's hair was too weird and too red? Well it definitely wasn't _her hair_ that was odd. It was with these playful remarks and jests that Hak finally was the one awarded with the sight of his partner in crime blushing up a crimson storm as bright as those locks. Now he was the one who saw her sputter and stutter until she answered him with a stomp of her right foot- it was always the right-and an indignant a 'Shut up Hak!' And the transition from occasional visiting friend to nonstop chastising thorn in her side always brought on a sort of sadistic joy the boy (Ah, no it was man now!) could never seem to explain. Was he consistently torturing himself and his all to onesided love by actively pointing out all her perfect imperfections that Hak himself had become addicted to? Oh no doubt, but by this time in their evergrowing relationship, Hak was really too far gone to even care if his hear was slowly cracking like forgotten porcelain. Hak loved Yona, there was nothing to be done now, and the damage of falling in love had already been done. So, his desire to keep her spirited and happy and full of vim to the end of his days had far surpassed the consequence of his broken heart.

Of course, there had been one consequence his heartbroken mind had not been privy to, and that little detail was that…

 _Yona loved being teased._ _ **But only by Hak.**_

His choice words and snarky jabs made her heart stop and the narrowing of those sapphire eyes (she could just dive into!) just before his unintentionally sultry comebacks made her mouth water in anticipation. It had also never missed Yona's attention that while Hak had always been cute and sulky when they were kids, nothing could have prepared her unsuspecting soul for his transformation into the literal smoldering symbol of sexual perfection. Yona had made it a point to ensure that the majority of their feuds were timed right as he was training, the view of his sculpted abs and powerful arms flexing and tightening and _glistening_ with each swing of his impossibly large spear did wonders for her private fantasies. And should he ever take a moment to catch his breath and her off guard with a casual turn of his narrowed hips and a confident smirk playing on his lustful lips then she could never stop the drop of her wanting mouth and her wanton thoughts. Yona had never wanted for anything until Hak towered over her and at that point all she wanted was a room, some privacy, and a shirtless sweating Hak all over her. Hak had been mostly right, there was nothing going on in her head…except of course, _Hak._

So with his lack of foresight, or more technically his lack of hope that she would ever reciprocate his feelings, Hak was genuinely astonished when one moment he was being called to her highness's side and the next he had landed hands and knees barely pressed on top of her in her spacious but very well hidden closet. Hak was more impressed however, that she had somehow managed to pull him in said closet and drag him down without his knowledge that she had been hiding in the first place and with a strength she still should not possess. Hak gulped; Had her nightgown always been that sheer?

"Princess, wha-"he quietly started before those slender arms of hers reached up to pull on his scalp and yank his mouth down on her open lips. His mind came to a complete stop and all movement of his ceased. Yona whined impatiently, pulled tightly, and demanded incessantly for more, and who was he, her faithful bodyguard and servant, to say no? Teeth clashed and tongues invaded as their lips melded aggressively and if he decided that his hands were better put to use running up the sides of her failing gown rather than keeping him from pinning her body into the gown with his, then Yona was perfectly fine with it. With their new proximity, she was finally able to wrap her legs around his hips and rock into Hak in a fashion that made his eyes roll and his hands squeeze her delightfully rough. His teeth nipping at her bottom lip, sucking and pulling, while one hand pulled her hips _even closer_ and drew a shamefully loud keen from her as Yona snapped her head back in pleasure. And then Hak moved down, working a path from the top of her ear, where he whispered filthy nothings and lascivious promises, and making his way to her unmarred jaw and pale throat leaving bites in his wake as she rocked against him demanding more, _always demanding_.

If they were to be caught by a stray servant or heaven forbid her father, then Hak would most definitely lose his job and maybe his head, but Hak, _was a weak man_ , and if Yona wanted a good romp every now and then, who was he to say no?


End file.
